


High Enough To Fly

by lyall



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: As High as honour, F/M, The Eyrie, the vale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-06
Updated: 2011-09-06
Packaged: 2017-10-23 11:43:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/249924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyall/pseuds/lyall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa Stark finally finds the truth and choses to deal with the man that caused it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	High Enough To Fly

She had rather not thought to be here. The wind was harsh on her face, making her hair fly around her in a furious manner. She stood as still as a stone looking down on the man in front of her. It did not seem so long ago that the situation was reversed, and he had seen well to show her mercy.

 

He was on his knees, begging, she supposed. As he should be. She was Sansa Stark, Lady of the Eyrie. And who was he? Someone low born man from the fingers. 

 

She had learn the truth of his intent, and his hand in her fathers murder, and with that any notions of kindness had depleted. His whimpers could scarcely be heard of the roaring of the wind, and the harshness pumping through her veins.

 

She would not be gracious and kind. Those days were gone. This disgrace of a man had seen to that. She would be hard and unforgiving. Both terrible and beautiful. 

 

“M-my Lady Sansa, I do beg you forgiveness, you moth-”

 

“Do not speak of her here.” Sansa’s harsh words cut off Littlefinger where he spoke, causing him to drop his head into his hands.

 

Sansa’s eyes drifted over to the moon door, captivated by it shape, and the view beyond it. Once upon a time a Sansa Stark she once knew would have shuddered at the very thought of having someone thrown out of it at her own command. But that Sansa was long gone, with much thanks to the man that knelt before her. Now it seemed all rather poetic.

 

The sensation of falling through the air, with the ground rushing up to meet you must have been a rather beautiful way to die. To feel all of your earthly worry’s fall away from you as you flew down faster and faster.

 

She could think of much worse ways to die. 

 

The way her father had for one.

 

She maybe hard and unforgiving, beautiful and terrible, but the she-wolf could be merciful. 

 

“Petyr Baelish, you life is null and void as consequence of your betrayal of my lord father, Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell. You are hereby sentenced to death.” Her voice rang around the room, glorifying it in the most beautiful way. “Guards, if you will.”

 

Two knights of the Vale, wearing silver amour decorated with a power blue cloak, stepped up to Litterfinger, grasping his arms and pulling him to his feet. Strength had depleted poor Petyr, leaving him almost unable to stand him self. His face one of a defeated man.

 

Several weeks in the sky cells would do that to a person.

 

His eyes searched her face for some kind of compassion or kindness, but she gave none. her once warm Tully eyes were a hard cold ice, with the steel edge of her fathers sword. 

 

The knights half carried Petyr to the moon window, dropping him just feet from the edge. He fell to the side, grasping the edges of the window with all his remaining strength.

 

“On your feet.” Sansa commanded, standing so she was just feet away from him, “Now.”

 

With great difficultly Littlefinger pulled his way up so that he were leaning against the frame, his back to the open abis. The tendons in his hands stood out from gripping so tightly.

 

“Please, my l-lady, have me-mercy. Have mercy...” He whimpered bringing his watery eyes to here.

 

She put her hand on his should, steadying his swaying body. His mouth turned up slightly, recognising her gesture.

 

“I am.” And with a final shove she pushed him out of the window to fly.

 


End file.
